There sits on the window sill above my table (the surface can't properly be called a desk; there are no drawers) a bottle of whiskey that was given to me by an interviewee from out-of-town who had screwed up and showed up late for an interview.
I received the gift in February, and now it's almost January and I haven't yet had a sip. That's not to say that others, working late or letting off some steam, haven't imbibed. It's just I haven't had any. Friends have; I haven't.
For the last ten months or so, my partner and I have kept telling each other that we deserve a drink. We should finish off the bottle.
When we reclaimed the account the account people had worked so assiduously to lose, we could have had a drink. But we decided to wait. Wait until we sold a campaign.
When we sold a campaign, we could have cracked open the bottle, but we decided "no." Let's wait till the online is sold, we said.
When we sold the online, we decided to wait as well. Let's wait until our rough cuts are approved. Let's wait till we have final cut approval.
Today, we got approval. And today we said, almost in unison, let's wait until we're on the air, until we're live.
This isn't Yiddish or the kind of adage I usually cite, but "there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip." That is, anything can fucking happen at any time and usually does.
Perhaps we'll have something to drink to in 2014.
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By the way, if you want to read an explication of the "many a slip" adage, check out Sholem Aleichem's "On Account of a Hat." You can find it here.
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